


Vegas Lights

by softiejace



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2012 Phan, Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Las Vegas, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Vegas Phan can I get a hell yeah, bc who are we kidding, yes that is a trigger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 10:56:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6701989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softiejace/pseuds/softiejace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2012 is not going as planned, but Phil still takes Dan to Las Vegas for his 21st birthday, the city that is said to hold adventure, risk and fortune – and maybe a flimsy hope for conciliation?</p><p>Title from the eponymous song by panic! at the disco (did you know eponymous was a word? bc I didn't. now i feel both smart and pretentious for having used it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vegas Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Excerpt:  
> “You still haven’t told me what you wanted”, Phil says low.  
> “I knew you wouldn’t give it to me if I asked for it”, Dan mutters, “so I went and got it for myself, last night”

When Dan’s voicemail answers for the 17th time, Phil actually throws his phone across the room. It tumbles over his bed and drops to the floor behind it with a sickening thud.  
Not remotely satisfying. Smashing the hotel suite would rather represent his feelings right now. And Phil’s not usually a violent person.  
It’s Dan’s fault, he reminds himself. All of it.  
Their plane has landed in Las Vegas six hours ago. Now it’s 11 pm, but according to Phil’s body clock that still goes by London time it’s seven in the morning, and he hasn’t slept. The jetlag is getting to him and he just wants to go to sleep, but Dan isn’t answering his phone.

After checking in to the hotel, they had gone to grab dinner and explore the city a little bit, just to get a first impression. Phil had found the bright lights to have a reviving effect on him, brilliant and dazzling. For a few hours, the city had managed to tear him out of the state of gloom that had become costum for him.  
At about 9 pm, they had made their way back to the hotel and sat down in the lounge to have a goodnight drink. (Margarita for Phil, non-alcoholic Margarita for Dan, much to his dismay.)  
When Phil had finished his drink, Dan had told him to go ahead. “I’ll be right up”, he’d said. “Just wanna sit here for a moment and soak in the atmosphere.”  
Phil had stopped at the reception desk to ask a question. The young blonde had stared at him for a moment before her look softened to one of pity. He must have really looked miserable. _No, there are no more hotel rooms available. We’re all booked out. Sorry for any inconvenience, sir._  
The downside of booking holidays early: You never know what can happen before you go.  
Thank god there are at least two beds.  
Phil flops down on his, but he can’t relax. He’s dead tired, and though Dan has a key card, he’d probably make so much noise entering the room he’d wake him up anyway. Of course, that’s not the main reason. Phil doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s worried.  
It’s been two hours since he left Dan at the lounge. He always worries about Dan. It makes him even angrier at the younger man, because he knows Phil would rather die than go downstairs in his pyjamas.  
“Whatever, I’m just going to lie down anyway”, Phil mutters to himself. Let Dan take care of himself. He’s almost twenty-one, after all.  
He moves to the windows to pull the curtains closed. The city beneath him is vibrant and bright as ever, only really beginning to gain momentum an hour before midnight.  
Phil’s got no eye for it at the moment. He collapses on the bed farthest from the window and pulls the covers up to his shoulders. The air conditioning has cooled their room down to freezing 18° C because Phil couldn’t be bothered to figure out how to change the setting.  
It doesn’t matter, though. He’s wearing a hoodie and he’s so tired by now he feels like he’d fall asleep in the arctic.  
It doesn’t take him long to doze off.

-

Things, as Phil has had to learn, never really go to plan. Especially not when you really want them to. Considering their luck of the past couple of months, it’s almost a miracle they made their flight.  
Phil has caught perhaps ten minutes of much desired sleep when he’s woken up again by a knock on the door.  
It could be hotel staff telling him that the fire alarm has gone off, or that they’ve given them the wrong room, or to ask if he’s missing a piece of luggage. It could be anyone who doesn’t have a keycard to unlock the room with. But when he drowsily trudges to the door and rips it open, the person outside crashes straight into him.  
It’s Dan, and he’s drunk.  
Phil steps back into the room and Dan stumbles after him, his hands grasping Phil’s shoulders, trying to hold himself up.  
In some mysterious way Dan must have managed to get shitfaced with an ID that clearly states he’s still underage. Maybe the barista has made an exception for him. Maybe he’s flirted his way to a drink. Phil wouldn’t put that past him.  
Drunk Dan used to be one of Phil’s favourites because of how flirty and needy he gets.  
Now drunk Dan is one that he dreads. Not purely because of how Dan gets when he’s had too much to drink, but rather because Phil caves in every time.  
Maybe he doesn’t really dread it. Maybe what he really dreads are the mornings after, when Dan will be cold and relentless again, pretending that he can’t remember a thing.  
The door shuts with a thud behind them and Phil turns around to go straight back to bed, because Dan deserves to deal with his own problems, and he’s tired as fuck, and he won’t give Dan the satisfaction of even asking why he didn’t answer his –  
His thoughts break off mid-sentence because Dan pushes him back until he feels the rough wallpaper against his skin where his hoodie has ridden up, and then Dan’s rough lips against his own.  
He wants to pull away but he can’t because Dan’s hands are holding his face firmly in place, palms cupping his jaw; and then he doesn’t want to pull away anymore because it’s been so fucking long, and even though Dan tastes like cheap alcohol that’s better than the stale taste of swallowed anger and suppressed yearning he’s grown used to.  
Everything seems strangely more intense, the familiar and long awaited touch of Dan’s hands burning through the fabric of his hoodie, his mouth pressed against Phil’s, chapped and warm. Phil’s head is spinning because they’ve barely talked without it turning into a heated argument in months and now they’re kissing like letting go would kill them.  
But just because Dan’s kissing him doesn’t mean he’s sorry. And just because Phil’s kissing back with equal fervour doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.  
There’s a difference between making out and making up, and Phil knows it.  
Still he finds it hard to resist when Dan’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip, seeking entrance.  
_You can’t just come in here after making me wait for two hours and kiss me like everything’s okay,_ Phil wants to protest, but then Dan whimpers into his mouth and grabs the front of Phil’s jumper, grinding down hard against his thigh.  
_Fuck._  
He can’t think clearly when he’s trapped beneath Dan’s body. What he needs is some distance between them.  
Phil turns his head to escape Dan’s lips and inhales shakily, then he takes Dan’s hands into his and pushes him gently away. Without the body contact it’s chilly in their suite, and the cool air helps him clear his mind.  
Dan’s struggling against his grip, trying to get close enough for friction.  
“Dan, stop”, Phil breathes. His heart is thumping in his chest.  
“Okay, we need to get you to bed”, he continues in a soothing voice, meanwhile guiding Dan over to the unused bed. “It’s late. We’re both tired.”  
Rambling has become his strategy to both keep his own sanity and distract Dan from attempting to seduce him.  
The light seeping through the curtains illuminates Dan’s face as he lets himself be sat down on the edge of the mattress. He’s staring up at Phil with heavy-lidded eyes, his cheeks reddened and his fringe wet with sweat. If he goes to sleep like this he’ll catch a cold from the air conditioning.  
Phil regards him for a moment. Then he sighs and holds out his hand. “Come on, let’s go take a shower first.”  
He doesn’t mean for it to sound like that. But it seems to make Dan cooperate.

-

The garish light in their bathroom is a rude awakening.  
Dan stands in the middle of the room, his dark clothes a strong contrast to the white tiles, seeming lost and smaller than he is.  
It makes it easier for Phil to take on the responsible role. He’s the older one and he’s going to take care of Dan like he always has.  
“Undress”, he orders, turning his back on Dan to switch on the water. He turns the tap until he feels it’s warm enough.  
Dan hasn’t made another attempt to touch him. There’s something authorative in Phil’s voice that makes him comply to his commands just once.  
He doesn’t look at Phil as he slips past him into the shower cabin. His eyes close as he stands beneath the stream of water, but his hands are balled to fists at his sides.  
Phil knows he should leave so Dan can take care of himself. But Dan doesn’t make a move, he just leans back against the wall, his feet slipping dangerously on the wet tiles.  
Before he can think better of it, Phil has pulled the hoodie over his head and tugged off his pyjama pants, stepping in next to Dan. The cabin is barely large enough for the two of them.  
Dan’s eyes flicker open and he stares at Phil, seemingly unbothered by the drops of water running down his face. He glances down at Phil’s lips, but this isn’t supposed to be romantic. All he’s planning to do is give him a hand.  
Or a mouth, for that matter.  
The tiles are hard and cold against his knees.  
He’s unprepared for the noises because he’s almost forgotten about them by now. But the moment his lips close around Dan’s shaft, a deep guttural moan elicits Dan’s throat and his knees buckle, forcing Phil to press his hands against his thighs and hold him up.  
He tries to focus on his task, moving up and down steadily. When he pulls off briefly to lap at Dan’s slit, Dan’s fingernails dig into his shoulders and he hisses.  
Everything goes smooth until Phil makes the mistake to glance up and finds Dan staring back at him, pupils blown wide and lips pink and bitten. Their gazes lock and Phil feels his heart take a leap.  
_No feelings, just business_ , he reminds himself, but then Dan whimpers and his nails scratch Phil’s skin as he tries to get a grip, and Phil’s hands move to his hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles into the dip above his hipbones. He scoots closer until he’s almost kneeling on Dan’s feet to prevent him from slipping, feeling Dan’s fingers tangle in his hair.  
Everything is so familiar and so strange at the same time because it’s been weeks since they’ve done this and it feels way too good for Phil to keep a level head.  
He sinks down on him once more before Dan gasps and starts to thrust into his mouth without warning, and Phil pulls away, using one of his hands to work Dan through his orgasm while still holding him up with the other. The running water washes everything down the drain.  
Dan’s hands uncramp in his hair and slide to his shoulders as he comes down from his high while Phil stands up carefully. Wordlessly, he reaches for the tab and turns it off.  
Dan begins to shiver immediately and Phil steps out of the shower before he can cling to him again, only offering a hand to help Dan get out.  
There are towels on the rack next to the door and Phil grabs two, throws one at Dan and wraps the other one around himself, suddenly very aware of his nudity.  
Their shower episode has built up an intimacy that tears at the seams of Phil’s heart and he wants to destroy it, but there’s still that other part of him, dominant in moments like these, that makes him turn back to look at Dan.  
The younger is shuddering and dripping water onto the floor. He looks even more defenseless now, like an abandoned seal pup with his dark eyes and the white towel around his shoulders.  
That soft, hidden part of Phil wants to engulf him in a hug to protect him from the cold, but instead he says harshly, “What are you waiting for? Dry off and go to bed. It must be past twelve already.”

-

Only after he’s slipped into bed Phil realizes he hasn’t gotten dressed again. The thin sheets do a poor job in shielding him from the cold, especially now that his skin is heated up by the shower, but he’s left his pj’s on the bathroom floor and like hell is he going to go back in there.  
Just then a ray of light falls in, revealing Dan still wrapped in a towel. He switches off the bathroom light and Phil can hear his feet shuffling closer until he’s towering above him.  
There’s a moment of silence in which they regard each other. Phil tries to remember the last time they slept in the same bed. It must have been months ago. He really shouldn’t allow this to happen, not when he knows how much it will hurt to sleep alone again afterwards, but he rolls over to face the wall anyway.  
The mattress sinks behind him and a gust of air rustles the covers, but then it’s warm, deliciously warm, and it feels so nice and cozy that Phil can’t help but lean back.  
Dan’s chest is pressed against his back, breath grazing his neck, and everything is hot and bold and careful as Phil swallows his doubts and turns around, wrapping his arms around Dan’s shoulders and letting Dan hug him back.  
His head is swimming with luck and fatigue, but the latter fades when he feels Dan’s hand graze his tummy and slip beneath the towel. He holds his breath as Dan begins to stroke him, mouth falling open and eye lids drooping because it’s the first time in months that it’s not his own hand.  
Dan’s tongue slips into his open mouth, licking the inside of his lip, and Phil moans against him as Dan flicks his thumb over his slit. Heat sprouts in the pit of his stomach.  
When Dan slows his movements, Phil lets out an embarrassing whine and curls his hands around Dan’s waist, silently begging him to go on. Dan breaks their kiss, pecking Phil’s lips once more before he ducks under the sheets.  
Phil feels his heart pound against his chest, hears the panting of his breath mix with the rustling of the sheets as Dan kisses his way down his stomach, wet touch of swollen lips. He bites softly into the skin on the inside of Phil’s thigh and Phil’s breath hitches, his hands searching for Dan’s head to guide him to where he needs him.  
“Please”, he mutters, twining the wet strands of Dan’s hair around his fingers.  
Finally, Dan’s lips close around his tip, but only briefly before he kisses the side of Phil’s cock, licks a stripe all the way down to the base. His right hand strokes up Phil’s thigh and curls around his balls.  
Phil’s struggling to breathe, his heart beating a mile a minute.  
And then Dan takes him in all at once, wet heat engulfing him, that wondrous tongue of his never ceasing to swirl and lick and tease.  
It’s so good Phil never wants it to end, but he can feel himself getting closer, so he tugs on Dan’s hair in warning.  
But Dan doesn’t pull off, fondling Phil’s balls with one hand and holding his hips down with the other to keep him from bucking up into his mouth as he starts to come. Dan swallows around him, continuing to bob up and down until Phil sinks back, spent and exhausted.  
Dan emerges from under the sheets with red swollen lips that he wipes on the back of his hand before he settles in next to Phil, facing him.  
Phil’s still working on catching his breath. Dan’s face is close to his, eyes dark and glowing, and Phil just can’t bring himself to care about right and wrong anymore.  
He reaches out to stroke Dan’s fringe back and pulls his head against his chest. Dan nuzzles his face into Phil’s neck as their legs entangle sleepily.  
Outside their window, people are getting married by accident and losing bets, but inside Dan and Phil are drifting off to sleep, blissful and careless for the moment.

-

The first thing Phil registers upon waking up is warmth.  
The sheets have slipped down past his waist, sunlight filters in through the curtains, and someone is pressed up against his front, head on his chest and one arm slung around his torso.  
He looks down on Dan who’s sleeping peacefully yet, and wills the precious moment to linger, because as soon as Dan wakes up he’ll shake off Phil’s arms and jump away, and Phil doesn’t think his heart could take that right now.  
He can’t resist the opportunity of gently running his hands through Dan’s hair while he lies there holding him close and ponders.  
It’s almost like a dream or like a leap back in time a year or two, back to when Dan’s hair was longer and his dimple was deeper, almost permanently carved into his cheek, and he didn’t flinch or look away every time Phil’s hand brushed against his own. Back when Dan would sleep in his bed every night, curled up against him, and when he’d wake up to a warm embrace and a warm smile instead of a cold bed and a cold cup of coffee left lonely on the kitchen table.  
The knowledge that this flashback won’t last is ever present in the back of his mind, painfully poking at his heart.  
Las Vegas is the city of deceit and defiency, not of content and conciliation.  
As if Phil’s thoughts had woken him, Dan stirs in his arms and Phil grows stiff, his breath faltering as he prepares himself.  
But Dan doesn’t flinch or even attempt to back off. Instead, miraculously, he inches closer and nestles up to Phil with a languorous sigh.  
Then his lips press a “Good morning” into the hollow underneath Phil’s throat, where is pulse is throbbing too quick.  
“Good morning”, Phil replies, voice coarse from sleep and stuttering in surprise.  
Then he remembers something with a jolt and adds, “Happy Birthday.”  
He can feel Dan smile against his shoulder.  
“Thank you”, he whispers.  
Their voices remain low and gentle, as if they’re being extra careful, tiptoeing around their newfound truce. It’s flimsy and unexpected, but Phil knows he at least wants to protect it. Who cares that Dan was drunk last night. If he needed alcohol to work up the courage to approach Phil, then so be it.  
Phil’s glad he did it. It’s exhausting to always hold a grudge, anyway.  
“You still haven’t told me what you wanted”, Phil says low.  
“I knew you wouldn’t give it to me if I asked for it”, Dan mutters, “so I went and got it for myself, last night.”  
Phil frowns. “You did?”  
Maybe Dan didn’t spend all evening in the hotel lounge like Phil thought he had, but went back into the city on his own. The thought makes Phil uneasy. Las Vegas is not exactly a safe place to walk around alone at night.  
But he doesn’t want to risk a fight, so he just asks, “What was it?”  
Instead of replying, Dan shimmies up in Phil’s arms until they’re face to face and kisses him sweetly. When he pulls back, Phil stares at him in confusion.  
“Thank you, but what was that for?”  
A chary smile takes over Dan’s face inch by inch. “That was my answer, you dork.”  
Phil’s eyes widen, then he smiles, too.  
“That was what you wanted?”, he murmurs. “To kiss me?”  
Dan laughs shakily and presses his mouth against Phil’s again, just for a second.  
“To kiss you and to mean it and to have you kiss me back”, he elaborates.  
Phil watches the rash on his jawbone flare up as he speaks, like it does every time he gets worked up.  
“I wasn’t as drunk as I led you to believe. I guess that’s cheating, but I want you to know that I have no regrets about last night.”  
“I don’t, either”, Phil whispers. “It was the best night I’ve had in months.”  
Dan’s eyes are wet and he licks his lips before he continues, staring at Phil’s chin as he speaks.  
“I know I need to change, and I promise you I will try. I still don’t know really how, though. I just… I’m sorry for how I’ve been towards you. I’d like to say I just needed my own space to think, but that’s crap. I needed you by my side all the time, and yet all I’ve done is pushed you away as if you were part of the problem.”  
“It’s okay”, Phil says, although they both know it isn’t, but he feels like it needs to be said.  
“I haven’t exactly been the perfect example either. I guess we were both just really overchallenged.”  
They stay silent for a moment, holding each other close, listening to the city sounds outside.  
“Maybe this holiday wasn’t such a bad idea after all”, Phil muses.  
“It might turn out just what we needed. An escape from the cage we’ve built for ourselves.”  
Dan nods, leaning his forehead against Phil’s. “It might even offer a solution.”  
Phil perks his eyebrows up. “I’m all ears.”  
“We could get married and vlog it.”  
A barking laugh tumbles off Phil’s lips and he rolls over, extending an arm to punch Dan’s shoulder, who’s curled up on his side, giggling madly. “What? I think it’s a good idea! Spares us the explanations!”  
“No, you know what’s a good idea?”  
Phil cups Dan’s face in his hands and kisses his smile.  
“You and me. Out there in Las Vegas, celebrating the best birthday you’ve ever had, and will ever have.”  
Dan raises an eyebrow at him. “Big words, Mr Lester. I’ll expect you to keep that promise.”  
“I will. As long as you keep yours.”  
“Deal”, Dan mutters after a moment of contemplation, and leans in to seal it with a kiss.


End file.
